Ice Station UNCLE
by MLaw
Summary: Napoleon and Illya are sent to Antarctica to investigate a communications problem with their outpost that monitors the nearby UNCLE prison. (pre-saga)
1. Chapter 1

Alpha Tango Zulu this is the icebreaker U.S.S. Ticonderoga ETA your location in one hour do you copy?

"Roger that Ticonderoga," Doctor Charlie Burns answered, the commander of the U.S. outpost station in Antarctica. "We're ready and waiting. You got the supplies we requested? Over"

"Burnsie, you think we'd make this trip for the fun of it? Over."

"Yeah right, copy that. "Will meet you at the usual spot in an hour. Well, not quite usual; the ice is getting pretty thick it'll be a little farther out now. Over."

"Roger that. See you when you get there. Ticonderoga out."

The icebreaker plowed through the layers of sheet ice, coming to a stop a mile from the prearranged rendezvous point. There they off-loaded the much needed supplies for the small American research outpost.

At the half mile point they spotted the Snowcat making its approach.

"Howdy boys," Charlie Burns called out to them on the radio, "Welcome to Antarctica...we're having a fine Southern hemisphere day with the temperature mean a balmy -.67˚ Fahrenheit. At least the wind is down today, that keeps it from being worse than it already is."

"You're just too chipper Burns," George Pepperdine, the Captain of the Ticonderoga answered. "Hey we have a couple of passengers that need ferrying to their outpost. Said they're from U.N.C.L.E."

"Oh yeah?" Burns said, "That's that off limits place just north of us. Always wanted to get a look at it. Sure, no problem we'll give 'em a lift, over."

"Charlie," the voice at the other end whispered."One of them's a Russkie, be careful."

"Roger that," Burns replied, not sure of what to make of that bit of information. There was a Soviet outpost at Lake Vostok, but they kept to themselves, and had a tendency to show some muscle when anyone encroached on their territory.

The French and British stations were more affable, and there were times they'd get together with the Americans to keep the boredom level of being so isolated to a minimum. The French always had some great wine...

The UNCLE outpost was another story. Rumor had it there was some sort of prison out there, but since you couldn't get close enough to the place, so no one knew for sure. Past that outpost was a two-mile zone where no one was allowed, ever.

These UNCLE people kept to themselves, and no one knew what it was they did there. Charlie Burns thought it odd there was a dyed in the wool Commie with U.N.C.L.E. and wondered if there'd be some involvement with the Soviets.

One member of the American team had a brief encounter with one of the U.N.C.L.E. personnel, but was closed mouthed about it; putting it off to the equivalent of giving the agent a lift when his transportation crapped out on him. That was all she said about it.

The snowcat pulled to a stop when they got as close to the Ticonderoga as they could. Burns and his men, dressed in their bright red parkas loaded up the sled with their awaiting supplies and watched as the two passengers disembarked from the ship.

Their 601 series Thiokol snowcat was configured to carry ten passengers, but with the supplies inside and on the sled there was just enough room for the two surprise guests.

As the two men disembarked, they each carried a backpack and duffle, though one of them had a silver briefcase as well. As they walked through the hardened snowpack towards their ride. When they reached the snowcat, they both turned, watching the Ticonderoga preparing to make way back across the ice-filled water.

One of the agents, a dark-haired fellow, paused to give a little salute to the boat as he pulled a muffler from his face to speak. His companion's face wasn't visible as it was hidden by the fur lined hood of a powder blue parka.

A few Weddell seals poked their heads up through the water, before coming onto the the ice. They remained motionless watching the activity of the humans.

"Welcome gentlemen. I'm Doctor Charlie Burns the head of the American outpost here."

"Thanks for the lift Doctor. My name is Solo, Napoleon Solo," he offered his mittened hand when greeting Burns. "And this is Illya Kuryakin."

"Everybody calls me Burnsie."

Illya lowered his hood, revealing his shiny blond hair, though his eyes were hidden by a pair dark sun glasses.

"Yes, Doctor," he kept it formal." Thank you for coming to our assistance."

Burns shook his hand. "You're Russian I heard."

"Yes," Napoleon intervened." Our organization...I'm sure you've heard of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, employs people from many nations. Mr. Kuryakin is the representative of the Soviet Union, and my partner."

"I'll expect you'll be heading to Lake Vostok then?" Burns asked.

"No, I may be a Soviet Doctor Burns, but I work for U.N.C.L.E," Illya removed his sunglasses, squinting his blue eyes at the man." We are here to visit our organization's facility and nothing more." His tone was somewhat curt.

"Okay no problem, I was just asking. Now if two you'll get into the cat, we have a bit of a way to go to get to our installation. We need to off load our supplies before dark."

"You're not taking us north?"

"Sorry Mr. Solo, once it the light is gone the temperatures drop too low for travel. You'll have to spend the night with us and in the morning we can take you to your people."

Napoleon and Illya cast a quick glance at each other.

"That's fine," Solo announced."You're doing us a favor and we appreciate it."

As they boarded the snowcat a light snow began to fall.

Everyone settled into their seats, gathering blankets to drape over their legs. The snowcat had a heater but it did little good.

"I'm curious Mr. Solo,"Burnsie leaned over." I know your installation is off limits, but why didn't your people meet you to take you there?"

"Let's say it's a surprise inspection," Napoleon winked.

In truth communications had gone down with the UNCLE outpost responsible for relaying all incoming and outgoing messages from Tartarus. The prison was so remote that it had only one radio and that was linked solely to the outpost. In essence, the facility was cut off completely from the outside world except for the outpost.

Napoleon and Illya had been in Wellington New Zealand wrapping up an assignment there. Being the closest in proximity to Antarctica; Waverly sent his best team to investigate the communications issue.

It was most likely equipment malfunction; Tartarus was too heavily armed and under tight controls for anything to happen there to cause concern. The location was so remote that any unauthorized approach by land or air would be targeted with special lasers and destroyed.

"Ooh, gotcha," he winked. "Are you allowed to say exactly what you're inspecting? I've heard that it's some sort of prison facility."

"Sorry...Burnsie. Classified top secret," Napoleon winked.

"Nothing that will endanger our outpost will it?"

"I can tell you that everyone and everything there is safely under triple lock and key. It's a ' _secure'_ facility."

Burns got the hint. "Thanks for that clarification," he smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later the snowcat with the sled in tow pulled up to the American outpost. The buildings, domed military-style quonset huts to be precise, were constructed of corrugated metal, beefed up with wood and waterproof canvas They were no doubt heavily insulated inside to withstand the brutally low temperatures of the Antarctic.

Several flag poles stood nearby with windsocks attached to their pinnacles, all blowing horizontally in the snow-filled wind, though one had an American flag that looked near frozen flat out, showing all the stripes and stars.

There were towers with wind gauges and other scientific equipment as well, since this was a weather outpost...supposedly. It was probably spying on the other groups set up in this frigid landscape; the French were here as were the British but most likely the Soviet outpost was of more interest to the Americans.

Burns escorted the agents through the first door leading to an alcove that acted as a buffer against the wind, a second entry gave them access to the main hut.

It was lined with tables, equipment and supplies stacked on shelves. There was a kitchen set up as well; all a little disorganized at first glance, Napoleon thought, but hey it wasn't his workplace and anything out of the cold was welcome sight at this point.

Burns went immediately into tour mode.

"This is where we have our meetings, do our cooking and take our door at the back connects you with a walkway to the next hut which is where we conduct our research and experiments. The building after that is where our quarters are located and behind that is our equipment and supply hut. We also have our kennel there as sometimes using dog sleds are easier than starting up the big equipment. The dogs help keep away the polar bears too."

"There are no polar bears in Antarctica," Illya corrected.

"Yeah I know, we just like to see how much visitors know about this place."

Again the agents glanced wordlessly at each other.

"We'll get you settled in shortly. Sorry about the mess but we don't get company that often. We're just a bunch of egg head scientists and techs here. In the meantime have a seat, and get yourselves acclimated to the temperature. It's comfortable enough inside but probably colder than what you're accustomed to. There's a pot of coffee on the stove and I'm sure it's hot, knowing Maggie... so help yourselves."

With that Burns was gone out the door.

Illya was the first to remove his heavy parka, remarking that it felt warm enough, though he was wearing a thick white turtleneck sweater underneath it. Anything compared to the outside would be comfortable he supposed. He noted the heavy insulation that covered the interior, and a subfloor beneath their feet kept them raised above the snow and ice.

"I'm not quite ready yet." Napoleon shivered as he removed his mittens; pouring coffee for the two of them."So a bunch of eggheads huh?"

His coat was next to come off, but his checkered hunter's hat remained on his head, with the ear flaps still down.

"That I doubt," Illya spoke softly.

The door in the rear creaked open and a woman came in, startled at the agent's presence. She was pretty, with her long blonde hair held back by a pink knit headband. She was dressed in brown stirrup pants, boots and a bulky pink sweater. An oversized pair of dark rimmed glasses rested precariously on the end of her nose.

" _Oh_...and who are you?" She stopped dead in her tracks, pushing her glasses up with her finger. " I didn't know we had new people coming in."

Napoleon, pulled off his cap, quickly running his fingers through his hair and immediately flashed her one of his patented smiles while making the introductions.

"My name is Solo, Napoleon Solo, and my surly friend here is Illya."

"Not new," Kuryakin flashed his partner the stink eye for the surly remark." We are just passing through. Your Dr. Burns was gracious enough to agree to give us a lift but have been told because of the weather; we have to wait until morning to do so."

"I'm Dr. Maggie Reuter, and welcome then." She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them at the table where they were sitting.

"So what brings you two down to the bottom of the world? You don't exactly look like a pair of research scientists."

"No, we're not. We're agents for UNCLE and we're here to visit our facility west of here," Napoleon answered her.

"Oh you mean Tartarus? Wow that's a pretty crummy job... sorry, I meant to have to visit a prison in Antarctica. Did you guys do something bad to deserve it?"

"So much for Tartarus being kept well kept secret,"Illya mumbled. "And may I ask Dr. Reuter how you know this information?"

"I met one of your people when I was out doing some work out in the field a while back. His transportation had broken down and I gave him a lift back on my dog sled to your facility, where he was headed anyway. Say Illya, that's a Russian name or some such, isn't it?"

"Or some such," he repeated, not being very friendly; he focused on taking a sip of his coffee. If he was going to be dubbed surly, then why not act the part for now.

"And his name was…?" Napoleon asked her in an attempt to distract the woman from his partner.

"Oooh, no. I'm not getting him in trouble. He didn't tell me anything. I happened to listen in when he radioed that I'd be bringing him 's when I heard the name Tartarus. I just deduced it was a prison; I knew the name from Greek mythology as a region of the Underworld, far below where Hades resided and was used as the most horrible place to imprison people. The fact that there were armed guards in glass-encased towers at your, ahem...outpost, was a good clue as to what your place is used for."

"You're pretty observant Dr. Reuter," Napoleon said.

"It's my job, I'm a scientist Mr. Solo."

"Call me Napoleon."

She smiled back at him, noting the twinkling flirtatiousness in his very alluring hazel eyes." And you can call me Maggie."

The door to the hut burst open and in walked Burns along with a number of men.

"Hiya Mags," he shouted as he began to peel off the layers of outerwear.

"Hiya Burnsie!" She called back to him. "Coffee's hot and food will be ready shortly. I might have to water down the soup a bit as I wasn't expecting company."

"Even watered down your soup is still the best Maggie," as a younger fellow named Potter called out. He'd ridden in the cat with the others and helped with the loading. "Hey that's not all we're having are we?"

"Godsakes Pete, you have a bottomless pit for a stomach. Don't worry, we're having nice hearty canned goulash, canned carrots, potatoes and noodles. I made dumplings from scratch too. Oh and canned peaches for dessert. How's that sound?" Maggie grinned.

"Like I can't wait to eat," Pete turned to the agents."Maggie makes anything canned taste great."

"Nothing that some spices and a little tender loving care can't do."

One by one the rest of the crew were introduced to Solo and Kuryakin.

"This is Dr. Jules Verne Jacobs," Burns said." An older man with a grey goatee nodded to them. "I'm strictly weather research."

"Tom Ironside, he's our engineer and mechanic. His brother Bill Ironside handles all our electronics, the radio and our security. You've met Maggie I see, and of course Peter Potter, he handles the dogs and our stores by the way. There's one more member of our team not present as usual, and that's Dr. Sanders...Aggie likes to keep to herself."

"I swear that woman could live up here completely alone and not bat an eye,"Jacobs said.

"Agatha Sanders, the biologist?"Illya asked.

"One and the same," answered Burns." You know her?"

"We have met, yes."

"And you lived to tell the tale? Now that's a story I'd like to hear someday."

"Aw come on Burnsie? Aggie's not so bad once you get to know her," Maggie came to her defense.

"Yeah like getting to know a badger," Tom Ironside added.

Illya chuckled upon hearing that, as it was an apt analogy.

.

 _* Tartarus is from fanon- a term coined by Gina Martin_


	3. Chapter 3

"I heard that Thomas Ironside, you bollocks," Dr. Sanders called out as she came through the back door. She spotted the agents.

"And who the devil are … well as I live and breathe, if it isn't Illya Kuryakin?" Her accent was decidedly that of someone raised in London.

Aggie was a slightly older, handsome woman, dull brown haired with streaks of grey running through it pulled back into a tight bun. There was a stray lock drooping down across her forehead, which she promptly brushed back with her hand.

"Agatha, how are you?" The Russian actually broke a smile.

"I've been better but now that I see your face, it does my heart good. Please tell me you're here to do research and knock some sense into those Russian compatriots of yours? The lot of them are too serious and they and need to lighten up a wee bit. Maybe you can teach them a thing or two?"

Napoleon snickered when he heard that.

"Thankfully I am not here to do anything of the sort. Dr. Agatha Sanders may I introduce my partner at U.N.C.L.E. Mr. Napoleon Solo."

She gave him once over with her eyes.

"Hmm, he's quite a looker...so you're an UNCLE agent too?"

"Last time I checked," Napoleon took her outstretched hand, and kissed the back of it.

"Oh aren't you the smooth one?" Aggie let out a hearty laugh. "Don't try that again Solo, I'm as tetchy as they come."

"I'll be sure not to forget." Napoleon pursed his lips. Illya had a story to tell, and he was going to be sure his partner told it.

"So how's that manky old Scottish git?" Aggie asked Illya. "Still harumphing and never sleeping?"

Kuryakin chuckled. "Yes, he is the same."

Maggie broke up the conversation, as she and Jules were finished setting the table, and all the food laid out in large bowls.

"Come and get it while it's hot!" She called.

Everyone sat at the benches along tables as the steaming scent of the food filled the air.

The Americans let the guests fill their plates first before the rest of them helped themselves, ladling out the stew to stainless steel bowls and plates. Nothing breakable here, as it couldn't be replaced.

Napoleon watched as his partner put small helpings on his plate, and leaned over, whispering to him.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I am fine. Why do you ask?"

"You're not eating that much."

"I am being polite,"Illya whispered back.

"Well don't complain to me that you're hungry an hour later."

"That is only with Chinese food," Illya called his partner on his attempt at humor.

"You're no fun tova... Napoleon stopped himself. Better not to remind the others of Illya's ethnicity."

Kuryakin rolled his eyes.

Solo looked down along the table and watched as he watched Peter Potter pull an Illya move, piling the food on his plate like it was his last meal.

"Illya," Aggie laughed." Here's a lad who'll give you a run for your money when it comes to eating."

"I think company calls for a special treat," Burns interrupted. He held up a bottle of red wine. "Courtesy of our French neighbors." A lovely burgundy, bottled in...he couldn't read the label." Aw hell, who cares."

He opened it, giving the cork a sniff. "Smells fine to me. Not very classy in a stainless mug, but it'll taste good anyway."

There was enough for everyone to have a small libation with their meal and unexpected the usually taciturn Agatha was the first to raise her mug in a toast.

"To old friends and lovers," she smiled, glancing at Illya.

"And family too,"Burns added. With the exception of Maggie, Agatha, and Peter, everyone on their team was married, some of them with children.

"Hear hear," Napoleon agreed. He eyed his partner, who he noticed had blushed ever so slightly at Aggie's toast.

There was light conversation during dinner, mostly shop talk, from which the UNCLE agents remained aloof. Better to listen and study their hosts, not that they expected any trouble; it was more out of habit.

After the thank you's for a hearty meal, Napoleon and Illya were finally shown their bunks. They'd offered to help clean up, but were shooed away by Maggie and Jules, being told they were guests and that was that.

The quarters for the night was a small storage room where two folding cots had been set up for them. The walls were lined with all sorts of crates and cold weather equipment.

"The oil heater's in the corner there, just be sure to open the flue before you go to sleep," Peter pointed to a small metal chimney that ran up through the ceiling.

"We don't want to find you asphyxiated from carbon monoxide."

"Will do,"Napoleon said, doing just that as he lit the heater with some matches left sitting on a nearby shelf.

Napoleon dropped onto his cot as soon as they were alone. There hadn't had much rest since Wellington and he'd be glad to get some sleep before heading off in the morning.

Illya stripped down to his long johns, and dressed in a sweatshirt and pants for bed. He left his wool socks on his feet, and doffed his head with an extra knit cap from his pack.

Napoleon rolled to his side, his head cradled in his hand, digging his elbow into his small pillow.

"So care to elaborate about you and Aggie? I didn't know you liked older women, you sly devil you."

"Napoleon my relationship with Agatha is my business."

"Hey I was just asking. Could you at least tell me where you met her?"

"At a symposium in New York two years ago, and just to put your lecherous mind to rest; I did not sleep with her."

"Then what was with the toast she made all about… _to friends and lovers?_ I caught your subtle reaction to it. _And_ who's the manky Scottish git she was talking about? If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was referring to our boss."

Illya huffed, knowing his partner was going to be relentless until he at least threw him a bone.

"She is a friend of 's from a long time ago."

"You mean her and the Old Man?" That thought suddenly piqued Napoleon's interest, and imagination.

"Yes, but before he was married, so get your mind out of the gutter."

"Hmm, interesting. I never would have put the two of them together as she seems a bit on the _earthy_ side. She must have been a gorgeous woman in her prime, not that she isn't good looking now."

"Oh, attracted to her are you?"

"She's not my type, though Maggie could be a good possibility."

" _Napoleon,"_ Illya gave him a stern look.

"Hey I was just saying, that's all. So where did Waverly and Aggie meet?"

"She was in London, doing research during the war. The blitz had something to do with their meeting...the rest I will leave to your sordid imagination."

Napoleon flicked his eyebrows."I'll take that as a compliment."

He too stripped down his long johns, but ducked under the layers of woolen blankets on his cot, not adding any clothing as his partner had...except for his checkered hunting cap. That he put on his head, tying down the ear flaps to keep it in place.

"Goodnight partner mine. Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite."

"I seriously doubt there are any bedbugs at an Antarctic outpost; the low temperatures would…"

"Good God man, it's just a saying. I wasn't insinuating there were really bedbugs."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Illya I swear, sometimes you do this on purpose just to annoy me."

"Good night Napoleon," Illya rolled over to his side, pulling the blankets over his head as he smiled. Yes, it did do to annoy his partner now and then.

* tetchy: _British slang meaning:_ touchy; irritable.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Solo and Kuryakin were up early. Foregoing showering and shaving as the members of this outpost apparently did; they quickly dressed. The cold had a way of doing changing one's habits.

"Bad news boys," Pete stuck his head through the doorway to the sleeping quarters. "Snow is coming down pretty heavy so it's going to take us a while to dig out and get you on your way...if that's even possible. We won't know until we get outside. Right now no one wants to do that. Ao anyone up for flapjacks? Maggie made a special batch since your company."

"Always," Illya immediately answered, his voice muffled as he was pulling his heavy turtleneck sweater over his head.

"I hope you made extra,"Napoleon said." Our man here has a voracious appetite."

"He didn't eat a lot last night?"

"I was being polite. Polite was yesterday, today I am very hungry," Illya ducked past Potter.

"Is he always like that?" Pete chuckled.

"When it comes to food, definitely yes." Napoleon clapped Potter on the shoulder and together they headed to the main hut for breakfast.

"Hmm, I just might give him a run for his money."

"Pete, that might not be a good idea. I know my partner's eating habits and when it come to food, well...he's like a bull in a china shop," Napoleon winked.

Not only were there flapjacks for breakfast but vienna sausage...canned of course as well as spam and scrambled eggs, though powdered. Freshly baked bread toasted and served with butter and jam; that was the scent that filled the hut. There was more canned fruit, pineapple this time. Plenty of coffee and tea as well.

Illya was already seated, chowing down on a plateful of pancakes as he sat next to Aggie. She was smiling, while letting out a laugh.

"Good to see some things never change Illya. Metabolism still running high, I take it."

"Always Aggie," he swallowed a mouthful of tea.

"Good morning Napoleon," Burns called. "Come have some breakfast and trust me your friend has the right idea. The cold makes your body burn up calories so be sure you dig in."

Before seating himself Napoleon stepped over to one of the windows and peered out. There was nothing but white, no color at all except for a bare hint at grey sky.

"Don't stare at that too long, you'll go snow blind," Maggie said as she sidled up to Napoleon with a mug of coffee for him in her hand.

"Thanks," he gratefully accepted it. "I have sunglasses."

"They won't be enough, you'll need goggles to help protect …sorry, here I am lecturing you and you probably know what to do."

He took another sip from his mug." I have a good idea. This isn't the first time Illya and I have been down here. Last time it was escort duty."

"You mean you brought a prisoner here?" She whispered.

"I'd tell you, but then again I'd have to kill you," he winked.

"Oh you're the funny one aren't you?" She snickered."Come on, time to eat..." She turned, looking at Illya,"before he inhales everything. Does he always eat that fast and that much? He's already had two stacks of pancakes and I think he just started on a third. Good thing I made a lot."

"Let's just say he's had one too many run-ins with starvation, that and a few other reasons he tends to eat more than the average person."

"And he stays that skinny? He must have a very high metabolic rate….I'd love to do a study on him."

"Not a good idea. Illya has a bit of an aversion to people in the medical profession, though he is very cooperative when it comes to the sciences. He does have a Phd. in Quantum Mechanics."

"Well I'm a scientist as well as a physician. You mentioned he has a Phd?"

"Yes, but don't say I told you. My partner is a sort of private person."

"Oh okay gotcha. Enough talk. Eat. I didn't slave over a stove for this food to get cold.

"Do you do all the cooking?

"Pretty much, only because these guys can barely make a pot of coffee. I'd rather not end up with food poisoning. Not like there's a local pharmacy to drive to, though we do have basic medical supplies."

Miraculously there was plenty of food to go around in spite of Illya and Pete's best efforts.

"We expend an average of nearly four thousand calories while working outside and consume three thousand four-hundred calories. That's on the average but in the winter months, which we're in right now our caloric intake easily exceeds four thousand," Aggie said.

"You are doing studies on this?"Illya asked after swallowing a bite of spam.

"Oh yes, that's part of the reason why we're up here, besides monitoring the weather, we check ice samples, air samples and study the human ability to survive under adverse living conditions. There's not only physical implications but psychological as well...that's where Maggie comes in," Burns added his two cents.

"You mentioned you've been here before," Maggie said, "but that was traveling to your facility. You were never working outside am I correct?"

"Correct," Napoleon answered.

"I'm looking at your clothing and you should reconsider having more layers."

"Do we really need them?"

"Well, what if your transportation breaks down? You have little protection between you and the elements until help arrives, that's if help is able to get to you. If there's blizzard conditions rescue would be close to impossible."

"What would you recommend?" Napoleon asked, really just to make conversation and he and Illya knew how to dress properly.

"The principles we use here can be applied anywhere, where temperatures drop and one has to deal with strong winds. Layering is more effective than a single bulky garment. Several layers are built up, each of which has its own part to contribute to trapping the insulating air. Rather than one or two thick layers, several thinner ones are used instead. It's a more effective way of staying warm as air, which is the real insulator, is trapped between the layers as well as within them. Layering also ends up being a less cumbersome dressing overall and allows increased mobility. It's more flexible in that layers can be added or removed as the weather conditions change."

Illya gave a sideways glance at his partner, trying to mask the amusement in his eyes.

Maggie continued her lecture. "I assume you're both wearing long johns, so that's your basic core layer that's next to your skin. It's able to wick away perspiration quickly so you're left feeling dry in spite of any exertions in the cold. Damp clothing in the cold can reduce the insulation significantly...really it's important to get the sweat away from your clothes.

Now to your secondary layer. For example, Napoleon, your flannel shirt is fine but not enough. You should have something over that other than your parka. A wool sweater like Illya is wearing is good...Illya you are wearing a shirt underneath that turtleneck?"

"I am from Russia Maggie so believe me when I say I am accustomed to dealing with frigid weather and the concept of layering."

"I have a sweater in my duffle, a nice heavy wool shawl collar style,"Napoleon said. "So I'll put it on as per your kind recommendation."

"Yes, Napoleon has to have his style wherever he goes," Illya chuckled.

Maggie canted her head, not quite getting Illya's joke.

"Now your parkas are good, and I saw you have protection for your faces when you got here, but you need to add goggles to that to wear over your sunglasses. Now to your lower extremities….

Napoleon's eyes twinkled at those words, only to receive an elbow in his side from his partner.

"Even though you're wearing thermal underwear and pants, that's not enough. You'll need insulated leggings like down ski pants.

"We have them," Illya chimed in. "As Napoleon said, we have been here before. Though we had minimal outdoor exposure, we did come prepared. The only thing we might borrow from you are the goggles, if you do not mind?"

"Not at all," Burnsie chimed in with a wink." Your bosses might not like it if we let you go into the wilds of Antarctica ill-prepared...though it sounds like you've got pretty much everything you need, except for transportation that is."

"Speaking of which," one of the Ironside brothers spoke up."Let's go check on that."


	5. Chapter 5

When breakfast was finished, everyone pitched in with the clean up and then it was time to dig out. They opened the main door to the hut but found snow had drifted up nearly three feet high. That didn't bode well.

Many hands made for light work so it was easy enough to shovel and sweep their way out and about an hour later a path had been made to the snow cat. Once that was cleared off it was time to take a break.

More food, more calories and hot chocolate some spiked with a little whisky...though alcohol and frigid weather didn't mix well so the libations were kept to a minimum.

"I don't know about you getting out of here today," Burns finally concluded as he removed his outwear. "That snow is really coming down, wind is blowing it horizontal and I'd say it's safe to say we're experiencing blizzard like conditions. The temperature is dropping too."

Illya frowned at that pronouncement, though he refrained from saying anything. Back home in Soviet Union snow never stopped his people from going on about their daily lives...granted the temperatures here were colder than he was accustomed to in Russia. Somehow he was having an odd feeling about being stuck here. It was a tingling sensation, one he usually got when something bad was going to happen.

He and Napoleon disappeared to their quarters, trying for the umpteenth time to raise the UNCLE outpost on their communicators, but were unsuccessful.

Illya laid down on his cot, resting his hands behind his head.

"We cannot wait much longer to get to our people. I have a bad feeling about all this. What if there is more than a communications issue? If there has been some sort of escape from Tartarus we need to know about it and who's gotten out."

"I agree,"Napoleon sighed. He'd learned to trust Illya's feelings as the Russian had an uncanny knack for sensing things. "But our hands are pretty much tied with this weather. We can't abscond with the snowcat here on our own and leave these people stranded."

"Napoleon, we would return it to them."

"True, but being without it would leave them helpless and at risk. What if they had an emergency of their own?"

Illya suddenly sat up, putting his finger to his lips to silence his partner. Napoleon reached for his gun, but his partner waved him off.

"Hey guys?" It was Peter. He knocked on the door before entering. "Lunch is ready when you are. Hope you're hungry."

Napoleon hopped up, offering his hand to his partner, hiking him to his feet from the cot.

"As a matter of fact I'm famished, "he announced with a chuckle. "So if I am, then Illya must be just about ravenous."

"We'll be out in a moment Peter. Thank you," Illya called. Waiting a few seconds, before he opened the door just a crack to make sure it was clear.

"Do you think he heard us?" Napoleon whispered.

Kuryakin shrugged. "We will find out as Burns will surely confront us if Peter tells him what he heard, if anything. In the meantime we go eat."

Maggie had whipped up large pot of chicken noodle soup and that along with thick tuna fish sandwiches served on the bread made earlier made for a hearty meal. It gave them all the needed carbohydrates their bodies craved.

The snow was continued coming down. It didn't seem to phase the Americans as they went about their business. Equipment needed repairing, experiments needed to be monitored. Peter was off checking on the sled dogs. There were six of them in total, all huskies.

Napoleon occupied himself, chatting quietly over a cup of coffee with Maggie, while Illya went of with Aggie as she'd asked him to join her in her lab.

"So Maggie, what made you want to come to this part of the world to work? I could imagine you'd be able to get a job in a more temperate climate," Napoleon leaned his chin in his hand while resting his elbow on the table.

"Napoleon I study the effects of living in extreme weather conditions. Last year I finished up a sixteen month stint in one of the most arid regions of the world studying the natives who lived there. This year I wanted a change of pace and climate," she laughed.

"So how do you manage to live in a pretty much all male environment with such little privacy. "

"I manage just fine. My colleagues respect me and as you can see because of my culinary abilities they all adore me.'

"Anything else they adore?"

Maggie knew what he was getting at immediately. "If you're asking if I'm sleeping with any of them, the answer is no. I do have a sense of decorum and self control."

"Self control? So, if you don't mind me asking...how long has it been since you've been with a man?"

"Napoleon I do find you attractive, I'll be honest but that question is simply none of your business."

"So are you trying to tell me I don't have a chance?"

Maggie's eyes twinkled. "Oh, I didn't say that. Now if you'll excuse me I have some work to do. Help yourself to whatever food you like. Remember calories are your friend here." She took off through the door with her coffee mug in hand.

Solo canted his head to one side, thinking he just might get lucky after all. That would be a first for him...making love to a woman in the Antarctic.

.

Illya had just finished peering into a microscope when he straightened up, cracking his back. It was a little stiff from having shoveled all that snow this morning.

"So what do you think?" Aggie asked as she removed the slide from the scope.

"The bacteria you have isolated is like nothing I have ever seen."

"Nor will you. It's from deep within the ice. We drill samples and found bacteria frozen in time from 15 million years, at least that's the hypothesis.

Thousands of unique gene sequences have been identified, and your fellow countrymen have made some amazing discoveries in Lake Vostok."

"Lake Vostok? There is a lake in the antarctic?"

"Lakes Illya. Vostok is the largest subglacial lake in the Antarctic, but there's hundreds of them. Some of these lakes may have been isolated from the outside world for millions of years, and may be final refuges for life, the like of which exists nowhere else on Earth. These lakes may cause changes in ice flow, by draining rapidly and lubricating the ice-bed interface, allowing ice streams to flow even more rapidly. Despite the fact they are overlain by up to 4000 meters of dense ice, changes in subglacial lake levels are observable at the ice surface.

"This bacteria came from one of the smaller lakes."

"Amazing that it is even here in these temperature, still frozen and waiting for you to find it," Illya said.

"Yes it is! The layers of ice blocked sunlight, and created huge pressure on the liquid. We used but bleach to remove outer layers of the ice samples which could potentially have been contaminated during the drilling, and after conducting testing, thousands of microscopic life forms, predominantly these bacteria, were detected. We expected that if any life forms were to be found in the frozen crypt, they would be uniquely adapted to the harsh environment, and perhaps entirely different as a result of being shielded from evolution of life elsewhere on the planet for millions of years."

Illya nodded as he listened."Have any of these bacteria been deemed dangerous?"

"So far everything I've found has been fine."

"I recall reading one time that Russian scientist named Kropotkin first proposed the idea of fresh water under Antarctic ice sheets at the end of the 19th century. He theorized that the tremendous pressure exerted by the cumulative mass of thousands of vertical meters of ice could increase the temperature at the lowest portions of the ice sheet to the point where the ice would melt."

Aggie laughed out loud. "I had a feeling you'd bring that up. You Russians do like to lay claim to everything don't you."

"Not a claim, it is fact," he gave her a sly smile.

"Well I'll give you the first that Soviet scientists recorded the world's lowest temperature of -89.2C at Vostok Station above the reservoir. So that makes it the coldest place on earth."

"Of course it had to be Soviet...you know us and our cold weather." Illya playfully cocked his eyebrows.


	6. Chapter 6

The weather finally began to ease up, letting the Americans and the UNCLE agents breathe a communal sigh of relief. Being sequestered under these circumstances though routine for the Americans, was a bit frustrating for Solo and Kuryakin.

They were there to do a job thought the weather was preventing that, still they needed to complete there assignment and do it as quickly as possible. Tartarus being out of contact was not a good thing.

The only activity they had of any sort of positive nature was being able to to outside to shovel snow. It was a Sisyphean task really, but it was better than sitting inside playing cards, or chess. Even Illya wasn't enjoying himself in Aggie's lab as getting to the UNCLE outpost was distracting him.

As the agents along with Burns and Potter finally readied to head outside to clear off the snow cat, the radio came to life. It was the French outpost.

" _Mayday mayday mayday. Nous avons besoin d'aide. Nous avons besoin d'aide! Dépêchez-vous!"_ The man was speaking at lightning fast speed, clearly in a state of panic.

"This is the United States Research Facility. Speak English please. Slow down," Tom responded into the handheld microphone.

The man continued babbling.

"I speak French," Illya stepped forward, taking the mic in his hand.

" _Quel est le problème? I repeat what is the problem?"_ Illya asked.

" _Nous sommes attaqués ...Ils i sont devenus fous! Aidez-nous! Russe!"_ He screamed, a blood curdling one, ending the transmission.

"They are under attack," he hesitated," He begged for our help," Kuryakin translated. One word he did not translate, that was Russe...Russians. Were his people attacking the French? That made absolutely no sense and he deemed it wise, considering his present company to withhold that information.

Billy Ironside's eyes went dark."I heard that...Russian. Russe...your people attacked them? What the fuck is going on? Come clean Kury-akin?"

"I am an agent of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement first and foremost and I have no fucking idea what is going on there, just as you."

Tom Ironsides stepped forward, backing up his brother's demand."

"Yeah, what's going on Russkie?" He shoved Illya back with his hand, forcing Kuryakin to raise his fist sto defend himself. Before the punch was thrown Napoleon stepped between the two men.

"Knock it off! Keep your politics to yourselves...the French are in trouble and need our help," Burns shouted.

Ironsides and the Russian glared at each other, but backed off.

"He is right, we need to find out what is happening and help them," Illya said.

Billy opened the gunlocker, issuing carbines to each of the men. The UNCLE agents had their own weapons, though some of the Americans weren't happy about that.

Aggie, Maggie, Jules would remain behind along with Tom who would be manning the radio.

"I want you to bar the doors to the main hut for now. Secure the other entrances as well. We'll radio in when we find out what's happened,'Burns ordered. " Tommy, contact the British to see if they're aware of the situation and sending anyone to help. I want you to radio Ticonderoga and apprise them of the situation...we may need them back here."

Everyone else quickly dressed and piled into the the snowcat after shoveling it out as best they could.

Inside the quonset hut, the others started barricading all the doors, shoving anything they could to block them. There was no such thing as locks...who needed them in Antarctica of all places?

They were clearly shaken and remained silent as they hustled, getting everything as secure as they could manage.

Things like this just didn't happen down here.

Aggie tucked a Colt revolver in the waist of her trousers, and set a box of ammunition next to the radio. The last thing they did was close up the windows from the inside with wooden shutters, normally used for severe weather conditions.

Maggie armed herself with a luger, saying she wasn't exactly comfortable carrying the weapon.

"You know how to use that," Napoleon leaned over to her.

"I'll tell you a secret but you need to swear to me you'll keep it?"

"Scout's honor," Napoleon crossed his heart.

" I'm CIA. So yes I know what I'm doing. I'm just putting on an act for the moment."

Solo stepped back, viewing her in a new light. "Well all right then...we'll have to have a little conversation later. You know regarding inter-agency cooperation."

"I look forward to it," Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Ahem...yes, umm. Still, we need to talk." It was rare moment when a woman caught him off guard, though he liked it in this case. It made his anticipation of getting to know her even more titillating.

"Will do," Maggie gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

It started to snowing heavily again.

"How far away are they?" Napoleon asked.

"In good weather, it would take us about forty-five minutes but with this storm we'll be lucky if we can make it under two hours."

"Then let's get going," Solo said. Illya handed him his goggles and together they headed out the door.

"Lock 'er up!" Burns shouted back to those remaining behind.

Napoleon and Illya piled into the snowcat, driven by Peter.

As the machine rumbled along in the snow, it was complete whiteout. they couldn't see a thing and were following a compass.

"There's nothing out there we can run into is there?" Napoleon asked.

"Other than snow, nope there's nothing," Burns said.

Billy Ironsides remained silent, staring with his hands in their mittens were clasped together as he leaned his chin on them, staring across at Illya.

Kuryakin wasn't about to let the man outstare him, and flashing one of his coldest looks at the man; Ironsides finally turned aside.

Illya snickered in response as he pulled his hood over his head and closed his eyes. If the weather had been clear he would have kept watch, but given they were experiencing zero visibility, what was the point?

The going was slow as they drove in the direction of the French outpost. The winds had picked up, creating near whiteout conditions. They only thing they had to go by was the heading on the compass, and the odometer.

An hour and a half later, Napoleon whispered close to Kuryakin's face.

"Time to wake up sleeping beauty. We're here."

"I was awake. I was just resting my eyes," Illya answered.

"Hmm, did you know you snore when you rest your eyes?"

"Funny Napoleon." Illya peered out the window of the snowcat; the snow had finally let up.

They could barely see the buildings as they were covered in snow….different from the American quonset huts; their structures were more like trailers raised up on short stilts.

As the men exited the snowcat, they had to shovel little as the snow had drifted, leaving clear path. It was easier to assess the situation now that they were closer. One of the buildings was smoldering black smoke, and there were bodies everywhere. There was no sign of life so far.

Napoleon and Illya automatically took the lead, having converted their Specials to carbines; they remained motionless for a few minutes, surveying the scene.

Solo was the first to speak and did so authoritatively.

"We'll split up into pairs. Billy you're with Pete, Burnsie you're with me and Illya. Everyone watch your backs."

Not being accustomed to this sort of situation, Burns and his people were more than cooperative.

Illya stepped towards Billy, pointing to his rifle. "Your safety is there, be sure to disengage it if you need to fire."

Billy hesitated." I know that, but umm, thanks." It was obvious the macho Ironside brother was a bit nervous.

The men separated, searching each of the buildings. Napoleon, Illya and Burns headed to the one where the radio was located. It didn't look good as the door was wide open, swinging in the wind and snow was drifting inside.

The generator was still working but only some of the interior lights were on.

Solo took point with Burns bringing up the rear, and together they did a walk through looking for signs of life.

"The radio's there," Burnsie said, pointing to a darkened corner.

Slumped in the chair was the radio operator who must have called the mayday.

As Solo reached out, rotating the chair around, the man's face was revealed; it was contorted in a look of sheer terror. There was no sign of injury.

"Autopsy?" Napoleon whispered.

"Don't know how well Maggie's equipped for that," Burns shrugged.

After checking the rest of the structure and finding nothing, they decided to meet up with the others.

As they stepped back outside there was a single gunshot, sending the three of them running in its direction.


	7. Chapter 7

"There!" Napoleon called out," It came from there!" He pointed to the rear hut where Peter and Billy had gone.

They found the two men safe...well, standing with their hands up in the air as a gun was being pointed at them. One of the Frenchmen was still alive, though he was badly beaten up, and trembling with the cold since he wasn't wearing any protective outerwear. If he were outside much longer, he'd freeze to death.

" _Reste en arrière!"_ He shouted, warning them to stay away.

Illya calmly responded in French. "We are here to help. It is all right. My name is Illya Kuryakin."

" _Evadez-vous de moi! Russe! (Get away from me, Russian!)'_

" _Non, non...I am not with the Soviet outpost. I am with the Americans. Your people called them for help. You must calm yourself, take a deep breath. Tell me, what is your name?"_ Someone handed Illya a blanket and he held it out to the shivering Frenchman.

" _Je suis Michel ... Michel Duval."_

" _Michel, What happened here?"_ Kuryakin spoke in a soothing tone of voice, trying to get the man to lower his guard. He finally did so, letting Kuryakin take his weapon. Illya wrapped him in the blanket, holding the man close with his arms wrapped around him.

Duval continued speaking in French, but now it was barely above a whisper. He was going into shock. " _They came...came like madmen and tore everything apart. Killed everyone but me. Animals, biting and clawing. Faces deformed, like Neander..."_ He began to shake violently. He uttered one more word before passing out. " _Le Russes."_

Kuryakin translated, at a loss to understand what the frightened Frenchman had said.

Illya didn't say that final words spoke by Duval, though he knew Solo understood…' _Le Russes...the Russians.'_ Was it a warning to help the Soviet outpost? He couldn't believe his fellow countrymen...scientists, would attack the outpost. That made no sense.

The man might have speaking figuratively, perhaps some sort of racial slur. It was obvious they weren't trusted or liked, though Soviet scientists here were merely doing research. When Illya had checked his sources before coming here, he was told they were exploring Lake Vostok and nothing more. They were not under the control of KGB; there was no need to monitor such goings on in Antarctica.

Duval was carried back to the snowcat, and wrapped in more blankets.

"Well we'll need to bring the bodies back for Maggie to check over," Burns announced.. "Find their sled and whatever tarps you can put your hands on and we'll load them on that. Billy, get on the radio to base camp and see if they've heard anything from the Brits or the Soviets."

"Right on it boss."

Illya felt compelled to tell the truth. "Doctor Burns, Duval's last word was _Le Russes...the Russians._ I am not sure if was intimating that it was the Soviets who did this, or if they were in danger as well."

"He said it was the Soviets who attacked them?" Burns blurted out.

"I did not say that."

"I knew it!" Billy flew off the handle. "You Goddamn Russkies can't be trusted!" He cocked his rifle, pointing at Illya and he froze where he stood.

"Mr. Kuryakin, I'm going to ask you to peacefully surrender your weapon until we get this mess straightened out," Burns said.

"I am not subject to your authority, and refuse to comply." Illya stood his ground. "There is no proof the Soviet team did this."

He was answered with two more rifles pointed at him.

"Now wait a minute Burns, you have no right to..." Napoleon barked.

"I have every right Mr. Solo, at the moment you are under the jurisdiction of the United States Government, and if you continue to to resist...well I will be forced to seize your weapon as well. Take it easy now; this is just until we find out what's going on with the Russians, that's all."

Solo backed down, figuring it was better to cooperate for the moment.

"Illya give him your carbine. I'm ordering you as senior agent."

Kuryakin said nothing as he reluctantly handed over his gun, though he and his partner locked gazes. In this case that look was definitely worth a thousand words. Napoleon had a plan, he always had a plan.

The four of them set about their grisly task of gathering the bodies after Duval had been wrapped in several blankets and carried inside the snow cat. There Illya sat with the unconscious man, along with his partner in protest...let the others do the dirty work.

All told there were six bodies recovered, every one badly mutilated. Once the sled was loaded with their remains, the Americans readied to head back to their outpost. The snow was still coming down heavily, but at least the winds had let up.

"Dr. Burns," Billy called from the door of the main building; he'd been in there working at the radio trying to make contact.

"I can't raise the British. I don't get it, it can't be the weather since I had no trouble contactin our base… no surprise there's nothing from the Russkies. I couldn't get hold of Ticonderoga either. Something really weird is going on here."

Burns looked to Solo, a concerned look in his eyes. "What do you think?"

"I'm as bewildered as you are." He gazed over Burnsie's shoulder at the snowcat belonging to the French. " I suppose Illya and I could head in that to the British outpost to check on them. Maybe Pete could go along with us?"

"No I think it best you come back to the base camp. We need to stick together. We're going to lose the light soon anyway, and I can't have galavanting out in the dark. We'll have Tommy keep trying to raise the British back at base camp," Burns said.

"We still need to check on the UNCLE outpost. Communications were lost with them as well. Surely you cannot deny us from completing the task for which we were sent?" Illya asked.

"You'll get there all in good time once we have a handle on what going on here. We'll keep trying to raise the Ticonderoga and see about them bringing us some help, firepower that is. I think we're going to need it.

"If you return my weapon to me…" Illya began to say.

"Not until I find out what your people are up to Mr. Kuryakin," Burns snapped at him.

Napoleon and Illya exchanged silent glances yet again.

"This is getting to be a habit tovarisch," Solo whispered. "We need to talk."

Illya silently nodded his agreement.

Once underway in the snowcat, Duval began to moan.

Burns leaned over, placing his hand to the man's forehead.

"Damn, he's burning up. Billy stop the cat!" Burns climbed out, taking a towel with him. He filled it with snow and used it to help cool down Duval. If his temperature became too high he could begin to convulse and they had no means by which to help him.

lllya moved a seat opposite his partner. Removing his gloves and keeping his hands out of plain view, he spoke to Napoleon with his fingers, using a secret sign language they'd developed between themselves over the years.

" _I still have backup pistol."_ Kuryakin signalled.

" _Good. Must get to Soviet base to see what's happened," Napoleon answered._

" _Agreed. Will have to hijack transport."_

They looked out the window, staring at Peter who was driving the French snowcat behind them.


	8. Chapter 8

Duval became combative as his body temperature increased. He was incoherent now babbling in French, but none of it made sense to Kuryakin. He kept talking about monsters.

By the time they returned to the the American base the man had to be restrained as he was carried inside the quonset hut and to the infirmary.

The bodies of the other Frenchmen were brought to a storage shed behind the building that housed the sled dogs. There was no heat in the shed, so the corpses would essentially be stored in a deep freeze until they could be examined further.

In the meantime it was the survivor who was only Maggie's concern at the moment. The first thing she did was to take blood and saliva samples, but with the equipment she had it would take a while to get any results.

The made cooling bags packed with snow to help keep his temperature from going any higher for now.

"I'm not equipped for this sort of thing guys," she said. "Even with Aggie's lab..well, we'll have to improvise. Hopefully Ticonderoga's sick bay will have the right tools for the job."

"If we ever get hold of them," Tommy mumbled.

Maggie gave the Frenchman a sedative to calm him down. He still had to be restrained until he did, and was literally tied down to his bunk as his strength was inexplicably increasing.

The poor man was soaked with perspiration and Maggie continued to wipe his brow with a cool damp cloth ais body temperature was still up there, but not increasing for the moment.

She'd been moving non-stop, continually checking on her tests which were taking forever, and trying to keep the man cool, until Napoleon walked into the infirmary.

Maggie stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath before sighing. She'd been feeling warm herself, she figured from being so active, and she'd stripped off her sweaters down to a tank top to let herself cool down.

Napoleon paused for a moment, admiring her curvaceous figure that until now had been hidden by the bulky clothing she'd been wearing.

"Ahhh, so there is a beautiful woman under all those layers. He reached over, brushing a stray bit of hair with his fingers from her glistening brow.

"I bet you say that to all the ladies," she smiled, leaning in towards him.

"I can guarantee, without a doubt, I have never said such thing to any woman in Antarctica."

That made her smile."Oh shut up and kiss me."

Napoleon did just that, pulling her to him as he embraced her in a long, slow kiss.

"Make love to me?"Maggie whispered." I've been without a man for so long...and I mean a real man, that I'm starting to forget..."

"But what about your patient?" His voice had become husky, just thinking about being with her.

"He's out for now and the test results will take a while. Come on," she took his hand and led him through a side door to her private quarters. Both she and Aggie had them.

Maggie propped a chair up against the door just in case and in one swift movement she stripped off her shirt, revealing a pair of perfect pale breasts.

"Now for some real undercover work," she smiled as she went to him.

Napoleon sighed. It had been a while for him too. One assignment after another hadn't left him much time for a love life.

He couldn't resist and cupped her breasts in his hands, letting his lips and tongue tease her. He slowly worked his way back up, pausing to nibble her throat before he returned to her lips. She moaned as he explored her with his tongue, letting his fingers wander elsewhere as he began to pleasure her.

It wasn't long before they were both completely naked and in her cot, groaning and thrusting as they made love.

When they were both spent, they snuggled together in silence, falling asleep.

Napoleon woke with a start, disoriented for a second as the chirp of his communicator called him attention.

"Solo."

"Napoleon where are you?" You did not sleep in your bunk last night."

It was Illya, of course. No other communicator signals in and out of the area were working...which was the reason the two agents were there. Until they resolved the issue with Tartarus and the outpost being silent, they couldn't even contact headquarters.

"I'm a bit ummm... occupied as the moment, why?"

There was a brief pause before Kuryakin spoke again, taking a leap of logic.

"Oh, you did not? Put your libido on hold. You and Maggie get dressed. The British outpost is under attack and are calling for help."

"On my way! Out." Napoleon was up in a flash.

"How did he know you were with me? Did you say something to him? No wait, you couldn't have? Did you bug my lab?" Maggie's voice went up in pitch.

"No no, that's not...Maggie, Illya just knows me when it comes to being around a beautiful woman and besides you were flirting with me; I'm sure he saw it as he's a very observant man."

"Hmm, that's true," she reached up, pulling Napoleon down to her for one last kiss. She didn't stop there and grabbed his hand, pulling under the blanket.

He resisted, though not willingly. "Come on Mags, we need to get going. I promise I will be making love to you again."

"Be careful, I have a bad feeling about this," Maggie sat up, keeping herself bundled in her blanket.

"I will," he leaned down, giving her one last kiss as he quickly dressed.

She rose, dressing herself as well, tucking her gun into the waistband of her pants.

"Give me a few minutes before you come in behind me,"he said."We do need to maintain your cover."

"Why thank you for being so gallant,"she practically giggled."I think I'll stay with my patient. He remained stable during the night."

'Yes I felt you get up to go check on him, remember when you got back into your bunk?"

"Boy, do i! Now you better get going. Illya's waiting for you."

.

Napoleon made it to the main hut in record time."What's happened?" He called out as he entered the room."

Tommy was the first to speak. ""The Brits radioed, said their antenna had gone down in the storm and had just fixed it. Said they were attacked by monsters. Several of their team are dead and they've barricaded themselves in their radio room."

"Burns, you stay here with your people. Illya and I will take the snowcat and investigate."

"Not without me you don't," Billy said. "That cat is my baby and I'll drive her this time."

"Burns?" Illya asked.

"Okay go with them Bill. You keep my man safe Solo and find out what the hell is going on," Burnsie agreed.

"You have my word on it. Once we're outside I think it best you all stick together here, and someone look in on Maggie and her patient in the infirmary. Double check to make sure everything is secure."Napoleon ordered.

"Someone had better get Aggie in here as well. As stubborn as she is, she should not be alone," Illya added."Now if you will be so kind as to return my carbine to me?"

"Will do," Burns said, this time without hesitation. It would be on his head if this Russian wasn't on their side, but at the moment it was a chance he was now willing to take.

He reached down to one of the shelves where their packs were stored and took the weapon out from beneath them where it had been hidden. He handed it to Illya without a word, who merely nodded.

The trio dressed themselves, and armed with their weapons; they headed out to the snowcat. The weather still hadn't completely cleared and the wind was picking up again, blowing the snow everywhere.

"We'll have to fly by the seat of our pants," Bill yelled over the wind," and the compass of course."

They climbed into the vehicle and once the engine was warmed up enough, they began their slow journey. The British outpost was closer than the French, and at least there was better visibility this time.

When they arrived at the British outpost, it was barely visible as the snow filled winds made for near whiteout conditions.

As they stepped down from the snowcat, they each draped a towel over their guns to protect them from the extreme weather, lesson learned when they'd returned from the French outpost.

"We stick together," Napoleon said.

They moved to the main quonset hut door...the Brits used the same sort of set up as the Americans did.

The door was damaged and ajar, they moved cautiously. Napoleon on point followed by Ironsides and Illya bringing up the rear.

"Their radio room is in the back," Billy said. He pointed to a door that seemed intact.

Napoleon pounded on it."We're the Americans here to help you. Is anyone in there?"

"I don't know you, who are you?" A muffled voice called out from the other side of the door.

"My name is Napoleon Solo, my partner Illya Kuryakin we're from U.N.C.L.E. Billy Ironsides is with us."

"A Russian, you have a bloody Russian with you?"

"I am not from their outpost," Illya called.

"Brian is that you? It's Billy. He's okay. You can open up. Come on man, it's cold out here!"

There was silence, then the sound of things being moved around, and slowly the door creaked open.

A man stood their, silhouetted against the light of a single incandescent bulb hanging behind him.

"Quick you blokes get inside before they come back."

"Who?" Napoleon asked.

The men closed the door after entering and quickly helped barricade it again.

"Them monsters...no offence mate but they were Russians...well at least they used to be."

"What do you mean, used to be?" Illya asked. Nothing the man said was making sense.

"I recognized one of them or what was left of him, the only Russian who'd been friendly with us. His name was Vasilyev, Ivan Vasilyev. He used to come by for a game of chess. We'd trade him canned fruit for vodka. He seemed a decent sort for a commie. They attacked us like wild animals...they'd changed into something horrible."

"What do you mean 'what was left him?' Illya asked.

"I'll do better; I'll show you."

Brian moved to the back of the room where two others were huddled, they were pale and bloodied, as they'd been injured. On the floor to one side was an old tarp covering something.

"Look at this," Brian flipped back the covering."This is...was Vasilyev."

What they saw made them all gasp...


	9. Chapter 9

"How is this possible?" Kuryakin was the first to speak."This looks like a perfectly preserved specimen of Homo neanderthalensis, a species of human in the genus Homo which went extinct 40,000 ago."

"Illya, plain English please?" Napoleon snapped his fingers.

"Are you Brits pulling some sort of crazy joke here? Did you dig up a frozen Neanderthal and dress it up in your clothes?" Billy demanded.

"Billy is correct Napoleon," Illya said,"That looks like a Neanderthal, though not quite."

"Wait,"Solo interrupted."You're saying this is the body of a caveman?"

"Look mates I'm telling you the truth," Brian insisted. He broke into a violent fit of coughing. "He was one of them that attacked us last night."

The others mumbled their agreement and like Brian Cox, they didn't look well at all. Where they were held up was warm enough, so it couldn't be exposure to the cold. Perhaps it was shock.

"I think we need to stay away from them," Illya leaned over, whispering to his partner.

One of the others suddenly screamed, holding his face. He fell forward to the floor writhing in pain and when he rolled over, his features were changing.

The muscles of his face were undulating as his features changed and were beginning to swell up. The shape of his head seemed to stretch flat, becoming elongated. His lower jaw pulled in, yet at the same time his upper teeth pushed forward, protruding from his now gaping mouth. His brow looked enlarged, and his chest expanded, becoming barrel-like.

He'd transformed into what looked like an exaggerated caricature of a Neanderthal and slowly he raised himself up on his arms, snarling as he did so. His eyes were focused on the blond head of Kuryakin.

Without hesitation, Napoleon raised his gun and darted the creature.

"Get out of here!" Cox screamed. He grabbed his head as it too began to swell.

"Come on!" Napoleon called, tugging at Billy's sleeve as the man was standing there transfixed at what was happening to the Brit.

"But we have to help them," he muttered.

"They are beyond help at this point," Illya yelled. "We must leave before they turn on us and ...we perhaps become like them."

The three ran out into the snow, climbing into the snowcat just as the remaining Brits charged after them. Illya and Napoleon darted them as well, while Billy started up the vehicle.

As they disappeared into the wind-whipped snow Billy finally spoke up.

"What happened to them? How could they just become throwbacks... Neanderthals? That's not physically possible but we saw it happen, didn't we?"

"How it happened, I do not know," Illya said. "What we saw however were not true Neanderthals. True Neanderthals did not resemble monsters, they were human like us, though their features were somewhat different from ours. They were still recognizable as human. There are some scientists who conjecture that we all carry their DNA within us. One theory is that as modern man grew in population, he interbred with Neanderthal until they eventually disappeared as a species, having been bred away by the larger population of homo sapien. What you saw Billy was the result of something that caused those men to mutate and it has to be a means most unnatural."

"And thank you for that lecture Dr. Kuryakin. So now we need to figure out how they got that way,"Napoleon mumbled. "Do you think we've been exposed to something that will change us as well? Dare we risk going back to the base camp?"

"None of us touched them, and I doubt if airborne could survive long enough to do anything, not in this frigid environment." Illya hesitated.

" _Duval?"_ The name suddenly took on an ominous portent.

"Do you think tovarisch?"

"There is only hope against hope my friend, but I have a bad feeling he is infected as well, and most likely contagious."

"And taking him back may have exposed everyone."

"We do not know that Napoleon. You and I were exposed to him and neither of us is showing any signs of illness," Illya replied.

His head was spinning though as was going over the possibilities as to what might have caused this inexplicable situation.

The one answer he that kept coming back to him was that it had to have been deliberate. Since his fellow countrymen were seemingly the first to change, could this have been caused by them? Was it an experiment that had gone awry?

Such was a scenario he didn't want to believe at the moment. T.H.R.U.S.H. immediately came to mind as this smacked of their modus operandi.

"Napoleon, I think we need to investigate the Soviet base,"Illya finally suggested.

"Once we check on the Americans and Duval, sure. We can do that. Billy can you make this thing go any faster?" Napoleon asked.

"She's going as fast as she can sir."

Time eked by, making it feel like an unconscionably long time until at last they came to a stop in front of the American outpost.

Nothing looked out of place, smoke was coming out of the chimney in the main quonset hut. The camp was completely intact.

The men quickly disembarked from the snowcat, with Billy pounding on the door to the main hut as soon as he reached it. There was no response.

Too many times Solo and Kuryakin had looked each other in the eye. What they saw this time in each other's glance was not one of confidence.

"We can try around back," Billy said, "Through the kennels."

The agents followed him to a smaller shed located behind the main hut, where they found the door ajar. That wasn't a good sign.

Inside was a gruesome sight; the sled dogs were all dead...ripped apart. They looked as though they'd been gnawed upon.

Illya found the interior door leading to the adjoining corridor unprotected, though there had been instructions to barricade the outer doors.

Perhaps it was out of concern for the dogs that it was left unprotected?

Once inside, Billy again pounded against the wooden back door, shouting his brother Tommy's name.

They heard a muffled voice...it was Aggie.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist! I'm coming!"

The entry was cleared as apparently it had been barricaded after all, giving the three men entry back inside.

"Quick, get your bollocks in here before they come back!" She shouted.

"Agatha what happened to the dogs?" Illya demanded.

"The compound was attacked right after you all left. No one could see them, we could only hear their grunts and snarls at first," Aggie, usually a strong person was definitely shapen. "The dogs started barking. There were yelps and eventually everything went quiet. We haven't heard a sound since then."

The ominous look in the men's eyes gave her the feeling there was more bad news.

"What did you find at the British base?"

"Not good," Napoleon answered." Is everyone else here all right?"

"Except for me, they're all sick. Everyone has developed a bad cough and are running temperatures, just like Duval did."

"What do you mean... _did_?"Illya asked.

"He died, but before he did, his body began to change, lots of cranial swelling making his features barely recognizable. He was screaming in pain and Maggie gave him a shot of morphine. He passed away right after that. There's no way to know right now if the cause was his his illness, or the drug that did it."

"What about his test results?"Illya asked.

"There was something in his blood, but unidentifiable. it looks like bacteria, but the likes of which I've never seen before."

All the while they'd been walking, heading to the main quonset hut. The only one there was Maggie and she didn't look well at all. She was pale, with reddened circles under her glassy eyes. It was as if she hadn't slept for days.

"Oh thank God you're back," she stood up from the bench where she'd been seated. "There's hot coffee on the stove. I didn't have the energy to cook anything, but you can heat up some cans of soup if you like and there's left over…"

"Maggie, you look exhausted, you should be in bed," Napoleon said.

"That's what I've been telling her but she won't listen." Aggie poured them all hot cups of coffee while they stripped off their outerwear. She pulled Illya and Napoleon aside, whispering to them.

"She's sicker like the others. They've all been confined to quarters. Except for Tommy and myself, they're all becoming the same as Duval had been and I suspect our Maggie is in the same boat. She's the only one who had the closest contact with him.

Napoleon's eyes widened as he'd spent the night with Maggie. Could he have somehow been infected as well?

"Aggie, I suspect someone, Illya whispered,"...possibly the Soviet scientists here have been involved in some sort of genetic experiments. What we saw at the British outpost was most disturbing."

He filled her in on the dead Russian, and the members of the British team who transformed right in front of him, Solo and Billy.

Napoleon cleared his throat but seconds later he suddenly began to feel warm, and looked flushed, perhaps feverish.

"Illya, bad news tovarisch. I'm not feeling very well myself," he sat down, holding his head in his hand.

Maggie went over to him and pulled a thermometer from her pocket.

"Here put this under your tongue," she too cleared her throat.

"No, I'm fine...just a little tired that's all."

"Napoleon, don't get me mad. Remember I have a gun."

"Gee, when you put it that way." He opened his mouth, letting her insert the thermometer.

Maggie tried not thinking about that talented tongue of his and their night together. Could she have infected Napoleon? She'd done the blood work on Duval, and had dropped one of the slides, cutting her hand on it. Was it that, that did it? The others, how could they have become infected as they only had contact with him while he was being transported, it couldn't be an airborne pathogen. Could she have infected them somehow, perhaps when preparing their food? Her head was spinning; she had to concentrate and hold on before she became too sick to be of any good.

"Illya," Napoleon rasped. "I need you to do something. You need to tie us all up before we become like…" he coughed hard this time."You got me tovarisch?"

"Do not assume that will happen my friend."Illya leaned close to Napoleon's ear."I told you your libido would get you in trouble some day, did I not."

"Don't be an I told you so tovarisch...it doesn't become you." Napoleon turned his face away, covering it as he began to cough again. "Can we really take the chance since you aren't sick. So far you, the Ironside brothers and Aggie aren't affected ...we need to make sure you're safe from the rest of us. You need to figure out how to stop this, whatever it is."

"I understand my friend." Illya looked to Aggie for moral support and she nodded her agreement.


	10. Chapter 10

A tough decision had to be made by Kuryakin. There was no doubt in his mind that he had to get to the Soviet outpost; heading to the UNCLE base might just be a waste of precious time as they could be dead or changed like the others. He was convinced now the answer lay with his fellow countrymen. It was the only logical conclusion. Each of the attacks at the French and British bases were committed by what were his fellow Soviets. Though no one saw who attacked the Americans, he had no doubt who it was.

He'd dismissed the idea of THRUSH being involved and focused now on this situation having originated with his people. What the hell had they done, and why?

Illya insisted Aggie remain behind to continue working in her lab trying to solve what was happening to everyone.

The four of them, Illya, Aggie, Tommy and his brother Billy were all wearing hazmat suits now, as well as surgical masks and latex gloves for protection.

Though they'd been exposed already, it was best not to take a chance in the event things weren't transmitting via bodily fluids, especially through the coughing.

All coughs contain a miniature droplets and if a person is infected, the droplets in their cough containing bacteria could survive for hours, especially on surfaces.

Perhaps they'd realized it too late, and that was why the others had become ill...though why the remaining four had not was a mystery. There was no rhyme or reason as to why they hadn't been affected since they'd been around everyone before and as well as when they became sick.

Aggie took blood from each of them, and herself, the brothers Ironside and Illya as well, hoping she'd find some sort of antibody that was keeping them from becoming sick...so far. It she found it, then it could be used to possibly come up some sort of cure. It was a hope she held onto for dear life, though the reality of the situation was becoming just too dire. Time was short, and would there be enough to help everyone?

She saw to it the rest of the crew along with Solo, though bound, were made as comfortable as possible.

Tommy's job was continuing trying to raise Ticonderoga on the radio. Billy and Illya, set about sanitizing every hard surface possible, especially cooking utensils, and anything else they could manage with a bucket of bleach and rubbing alcohol.

That was all they had as a possible defense, if it would do any good at all at this point in keeping them from becoming sick as well...that and keeping everyone affected confined. Nothing else could be done.

The four of them slept together that night; Aggie's quarters were the safest bet. Using sleeping bags and extra blankets they huddled together. It was the only location not visited by any of the others prior to the outbreak; though the cleaning products were used there as well as a precaution.

The room was kept cool, while the rest of the station was kept even cooler in hopes the lower temperatures might slow down the spread of the bacteria. Warmth might...well, the bacteria was thriving in warm-blooded hosts so, logically why make the environment any more friendly to the little buggers, as Aggie said.

Illya and Aggie spent half the night awake, taking shifts to tend to the others.

When it was Illya's turn, he could only check to see if they were as comfortable as possible, considering everyone was tied up inside a cold room.

Everyone was huddled together, lying in sleeping bags and blankets, as there wasn't enough room for all of them and cots.

So far none of them were showing any signs of worsening and thankfully nothing unusual was happening...yet.

Maggie was sitting up, leaning against Napoleon, her head nestled on his shoulder. Her breathing was ragged, and her face was beginning to look different. Her transformation was beginning. Having been exposed to Duval's cough as well as his blood made sense she would be the first to metamorphosize.

Napoleon was awake, his eyes bloodshot and tired. His face looked a bit swollen and like the others, he was feverish.

Buckets of snow had been brought inside to make ice packs, and Illya went about filling and changing them. They were being used to help keep down their temperatures. Yet the room itself was cold enough for him to see his breath.

"Hey tovarisch," Napoleon whispered, clearing his throat. "That's a new look for you." He was eyeing Kuryakin's hazmat suit. His voice sounded small and weak. "How's it going?"

"We have cleaned and sanitized as much as we can. Aggie has been working in her lab trying to...well, figure out this thing. As soon as it is morning, I will be heading out to the Soviet outpost. I suspect they are at the root cause of this, though for the life of me I cannot believe this was something deliberate on their part. At first I truly thought our feathered friends were responsible but now I think not...I will find out if that is true when I get to the Soviet base."

"Please tell me you're not going by yourself?"

"No, Billy will accompany me, purely for navigational purposes mind you. Tommy will stay here and continue trying to raise help on the radio."

Illya gave Napoleon a drink of water, and wiped his partner's feverish brow with a cold towel.

"Thanks partner," Napoleon rasped. "Let Billy be a protection detail too? I think he can handle a rifle all right, once you pointed out the safety to him." He tried to laugh, but it only resulted in a deep chesty cough. "Be careful out there will you? "

"That is the plan. Now get some sleep my friend."

"Good luck tovarisch," Napoleon said before closing his eyes.

"It is not a matter of luck I am afraid, now go to sleep Napoleon. I need you to resist what his working against you. Please still be you when I get back, hopefully with good news?"

"I plan to Illya. But I'll say it again, good luck." " Napoleon closed his eyes, going right back to sleep.

"I am going to need it," Illya admitted to himself as he left.

He wouldn't say it to anyone, not even Napoleon. but he was afraid. He feared this thing, whatever it was, and that it might not be stoppable. He feared he would lose Solo and the others. He feared it was his people who had done this and deep down inside there was a hint of shame that was trying to rise to the surface.

He was also afraid he would change into one of those creatures and dying that way. How would his family know him then if they were waiting to meet him in the great beyond? Illya just as quickly chastised himself for such childish thoughts. He had a job to do and he was going to do it or die trying.

Illya went back to Aggie's room, feeling guilty that he had to wake her, but to his surprise, she wasn't there. He found her already awake and in her lab, still trying to make sense of it all.

"Illya, my turn already?"

"I am afraid so," he yawned.

"You need to get some sleep otherwise you'll be no good in the morning. You have to stay focused lad. I know you know what you're doing, but I wish you'd let me come with you. This is my area of expertise dear boy, dare I remind you?"

"No need to tell me that. You must stay here where you are relatively safe, and I promise you I will return with whatever information I can find. Together we will beat this."

"And if you don't find anything, then what? We can't risk calling in help and risk contaminating anyone else." Aggie was tired as well, but was made of sterner stuff and wouldn't give up until the bitter end.

It was absolutely imperative they make contact with the outside world. If in the event this blight could not be stopped; extreme measures needed to be taken. He would have to head to Tartarus and hope he could resolve the communication issue there. Hopefully they hadn't been affected by the bacteria...then again, could he carry it there? It was a double edged sword and one he had no choice with which to deal.

Once he made radio contact, Illya would call for a small atomic device to be detonated. One that would make the area uninhabitable, and hopefully destroy the bacteria for good.

Tartarus and everyone there would be doomed as well...there was no choice. They couldn't be evacuated for hear anyone had been exposed.

Still, Illya Kuryakin was not one to quit. He was always known for his being a stubborn scrapper, and would be one to the bitter end.

There was a painful knot in his stomach that wasn't going away and he said nothing of his plans to Aggie...better she not know.

"I will get answers, I promise… _._ _obeshchayu."_ He promised in Russian, knowing she understood the word."

"Yes I understand," she whispered. Aggie took his gloved hand, giving it a squeeze.

Illya and Billy were up early, and dressed themselves in silence.

Soon the winter season in Antarctica would begin; the sun would set and there would be months of darkness. For the scientist trained to deal with that it was doable, but for anyone else not accustomed to such things it would be difficult. That was if they were alive to deal with it that is…

Aggie was not one for sentimentality and her last words to Billy and Illya were, "Don't bollocks it up you two."

"We will endeavor not to do so," Illya winked at her.


	11. Chapter 11

The two armed men headed out to the the snowcat. Billy gassed her up while Illya swept away the wind driven snow on still on it. At least it hadn't been any additional snowfall though the wind was blowing the fine powder into drifts and driving down the temperature as well.

Once their supplies were loaded, food, water, bedding, extra gas canisters and plenty of ammunition just in case they got stuck; Billy started the engine with a roar, letting it warm up for a few minutes.

The cold could wreak havoc on machinery, but he and his brother kept this snowcat in tip top shape as it was their life line to the outside world. Without it they'd essentially be trapped until help arrived. In this case, perhaps it was better that everyone stayed away.

The trip to Lake Vostok and the Soviet base would take some time as it wasn't as close as the French and British outposts had been.

They rode along in silence until Billy was the first one to break the ice.

"Hey, I'm sorry about those commie remarks I made a few days ago. I didn't know what I was saying...I guess I was just scared."

"Oh I am sure you did, but that is all right; It was not the first time I have heard such words, nor will they be the last. I thought that when I came to work for U.N.C.L.E. such things would not happen, but they still do. It is a fact of life and I have learned to live with it. I have a job to do...we both have a job to do Billy, if we want to save our friends. If this phenomenon goes beyond the borders of Antarctica, I fear it will spell the beginning of the end of modern world may eventually be plunged back into some sort of stone age...though worse perhaps. That cannot be permitted to happen.

"Illya, I'm not one to be afraid but I'll admit I'm scared shitless right now," Billy sighed.

"My friend, do not think otherwise as I am afraid as well."

"Really? You look as though you're...no pun intended, cool as a cucumber. Like nothing rattles you."

Illya chuckled. "We will leave the puns to Napoleon I think, as he is forever throwing them at me. I have been trained since I was a young boy not to show my fear, so do not mistake it for courage. However, fear will not stop me, or you. We can beat this, we have to."

"Once the sun is gone for winter season it'll only get harder," Billy said."The light being gone makes it feel like it's the end of the world, almost like an apocalypse. Eventually the outside world is going to miss us; if they send help and we're changed, we could spread the ...what is it Illya, a disease? Maybe it really will be the end of the world."

"Aggie thinks what has happened is related to a mysterious bacteria she isolated in Duval's blood. She has never seen the like before."

"A bacteria did this?"

"Though I do not know how it has ended up this way, I agree with Aggie in her conclusion. Do not forget Billy a bacteria called _Yersinia pestis_ caused the bubonic plague. Millions of people died from the black death, and still mankind survived. That bacteria has existed for thousands of years. and homo sapiens have rebounded from it time and again."

"What has that to do with what's happened to everyone here?"

"The bacteria Aggie isolated in Duval's system has not seen the light of day perhaps for millions of years, and mankind may have no immunity to it. That is what we are surmising at this point. How it is causing the physiological changes is still a mystery. Until we reach Bellinghaus Station...well, I am presuming that my fellow Soviets might know the origins of the bacteria or if they accidently released the bacteria from its deep freeze. I am hoping they did not deliberately do anything with is nothing historically to compare to it. It is a conundrum that we need to unravel and fast."

They finally arrived at the base, with the buildings of Bellinghaus Station ironically painted a bright shade of Soviet red and from a flagpole flew the red flag bearing the hammer and sickle.

Everything looked quiet, too quiet perhaps as Illya and Billy stepped out of the snowcat. There were no signs of damage initially, until together, with their weapons in hand, they walked around the back of the main structure.

The backside of the structure had a gaping hole in it. appearing as if it had been ripped open from the inside out.

Illya and Billy moved slowly, carefully stepping inside. The wind was whistling through the opening creating an eerie howling sound. Snow had drifted in, but were no footprints in it, which might be a good sign.

Illya led the way, with Billy covering his back as they searched the building. It was frigid inside; no sign of life at all. One by one they moved through each room until Illya came upon their laboratory.

There were shattered vials and beakers everywhere, but no sign of anyone, no blood at least either.

There were notebooks and papers everywhere as well, all written in neat Cyrillic letters.

Billy was looking over the Russian's shoulder as he studied the papers.

"You can read that gibberish?"

Illya shook his head, ignore the most likely unintentional insult. "This is not gibberish, though I suppose to someone who has never seen it, it might look that way. This is my written language."

"Oh, wow I had no idea. It's sort of cool looking."

Illya chuckled. "Thank you Billy."

He removed his gloves and began rifling through the piles of notes, all in disarray, scattered everywhere, but kept having to stop to rub his hands together to warm them.

"This is going to take a while."

"Then you better pull up a chair," Billy lifted one that had toppled to the floor, setting it next to Kuryakin."I'm going to see if we can get some heat going in here."

"Not too warm Billy. We do not know if the bacteria flourishes in it or not."

Illya sat down, quickly scanned the papers as he thumbed through them. He cursed not having his reading glasses, but still he could see well enough if he squinted. Luckily their generator was still working, along with the lights.

Working with his goggles still on and his face covered helped keep him comfortable enough, but a little heat would really help.

Illya paused for a second, allowing himself a momentary thought that made him smile. Napoleon would take great joy in his complaining about being cold.

He shook himself of that musing; there was no time to waste on frivolous thoughts. Napoleon's life and the others were at stake.

He wasn't sure long Billy had been gone but finally heard a noise and turned to speak to him. It wasn't the American; it was one of the Neanderthal-like creatures standing there just looking at him.

Somehow it was able to speak, uttering a single guttural word in Russian…

" _Pomogite...help."_

In the next breath the creature charged at him, tackling Kuryakin and knocking him to the floor. The carbine that Illya had left leaning against the workbench was sent flying out of his reach.

Illya fought against it like he'd never fought in his life, rolling over again and again with the weight of the beast on top of him as he tried to keep it from biting him. Was it trying to feed or was it just insane, with an uncontrollable lust to murder any living thing?

Those questions flashed through his mind, but he wasn't about to find out the answers the hard way.

As they toppled together back towards the bench, Illya saw one chance and he took it. He lashed out with his hand, while holding the creature at bay with the other.

He made a desperate grab for his carbine, but it was just out of reach. It was all he could do to keep the creature's teeth away from his throat now as his strength was now failing him.

There was a sudden ' _phffft'_ of a silenced weapon and Illya found himself trapped under a sudden dead weight. Seconds later it was pulled away as Billy stood above them, Illya's carbine in his hand.

"I figured you might want this one alive," he said, offering Kuryakin a helping hand.

"Thank you," Illya said."I thought I was a goner for sure."

Together they tied up the once Soviet scientist, lashing him to a support beam in the lab.

Illya resumed his work while Billy remained alert and on guard, should anymore of the creatures appear.

The agent had been sifting through the papers for sometime, finally finding what he needed. The bacteria had indeed been found in an ice core drilled from Lake Vostok...there was some mention about experimenting with it, but those details he was unable to locate.

Illya began feeling warm, and removed his parka as he searched slides for samples of the bacteria; original samples, not those from hosts.

Thankfully he located them and put one of the slides under the microscope. His next idea was to try to see what chemicals might work on this nasty little microorganism.

There weren't enough samples to do that and the next best thing would be to draw blood from the captive. At least he could compare the bacteria in his blood differed from the original or had become less virulent.

The subject was awake now and had been sitting quietly watching Kuryakin as he worked.

Illya prepared the syringe to draw the blood.

" _Tzvinite tovarishch . YA nadeyus' , chto eto rabotayet to spasti vas i drugikh_ I am sorry Comrade. I hope this works to save you and the others."_

There was a grunt as if it were a reply. The eyes seemed to have some semblance of intelligence in them yet. At least that's what Illya hoped..

Time and again, different compounds were tried, yet none seemed to affect the bacteria. As Illya reached for yet another slide, his hand began to tremble and he dropped it. The cold was getting to him as the gaping hole in the building was counteracting what little good the heating system could do.

"You okay buddy?" Billy asked.

He knew what was wrong and it wasn't the cold, neither was it good news.

"I am afraid I have a fever. I do not know how much time I will have left. Perhaps we should go. We need to get to the UNCLE base in the North as I must somehow make contact with my superior. I will request they set off a small nuclear device here to destroy everything. I am sorry Billy but it must be. We cannot risk the spread of this bacteria."

"Hey, "Billy's voice cracked," I get it. I'll go warm up the snowcat."

"But I am not ready to quit just yet," Illya growled, he was angry with himself for even considering quitting.

He was not one to give up; it wasn't in his nature. Still, it was becoming difficult for him to see clearly, as he could tell his fever was rising, but he was determined to at least give it one last try. The alternative of contacting UNCLE and the powers that be to detonate a small atomic device frightened him and the thought that the bacteria could survive that blast and potentially mutate...but then again it might not?

"Suit yourself," Billy nodded."It's going to take a good fifteen minutes to warm her up."

Illya mixed one more chemical compound, trying it on the bacteria, but nothing happened.

In his haziness, he'd forgotten one important thing, though it didn't make sense to use it on a microbe, and that was morphine. An opiate painkiller should not effect a bacteria. If anything, morphine blocks the immune system's ability to attack viral and bacterial invaders.

He wasn't sure if that was what killed Duval or not but it was perhaps a last chance; as Napoleon would say 'a hail Mary pass.'


	12. Chapter 12

Illya took a minute amount of morphine, no more than what would fit on the head of a pin and dabbed it on a fresh slide with a drop of the blood sample containing the bacteria. Carefully, he placed the slide under the microscope.

Before he could look, he became light headed and dropped to his knees, being barely able to hold onto the edge of the lab table. It took him a few seconds to regain his his senses. Hanging on tightly to the table he pulled himself up and stood, a little wobbly.

He looked at his reflection in a piece of broken glass, breathing a sigh that he hadn't started the changes. Not yet, please? He begged God, though he had all but denied Him for so many years.

 _"K sozhaleniyu, ya byl zol na vas, Bog_unfortunately I was mad at you God._ " He whispered in Russian. _"Can you forgive me? Please help me save the others? Take me instead if you must, but let them live and be well. You took my family from me, was that not enough?"_

Billy walked into the lab, spotting Kuryakin looking a very weak and shaky.

"Come on Illya, it's time to go." He put his arms around the Russian's shoulders.

"One second please," Illya slowly bent over, peering into the microscope one last time.

He blinked, clearing his eyes and rubbing them with his cold fingers. Looking again, Kuryakin couldn't believe his eyes. Perhaps it was indeed a miracle as the bacteria was destroyed.

There was so many variables racing through his head now. How much would kill the bacteria without killing the host? If they lived, would they recover from the changes or be forever deformed?

"No Billy," Kuryakin actually smiled."I think I have hit on something."

There was no choice but to make his best guess as he had only one live...no, correction, two live subjects on which to experiment. He had to get it right the first time.

Illya turned to his fellow Russian sitting on the floor, though bound and gagged, he'd been behaving himself. He was no longer struggling, and had calmed down after having the blood drawn earlier.

Poor fellow...he didn't even know the man's name.

He played around with the mixture of morphine, adjusting the amount and diluting it with 5 ml of water. That's all he had with which to work.

Illya slipped from his parka, rolling up the sleeve of his heavy knit sweater

Filling a syringe, and grabbing a rubber tourniquet; Illya took a deep breath, as he down at the vein in his own inner arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" Billy demanded.

"There is no choice."

"But what if it kills you?"

"Then you must somehow get a radio signal out. I do not care how you do it but you must contact U.N.C.L.E. Tell them what has to be done on my sayso. This area must be destroyed, and made unfit for future human habitation. You understand me... promise me you will do that? " He gave Billy the radio frequency and a special code, his personal code that would allow him to speak directly to Waverly.

The Old Man would make the arrangements with the Americans to take care of things.

Billy huffed, yet he knew the Russian was right. "Okay, you have my word."

Illya removed his parka and made a fist as he inserted the needle; relaxing, he removed the rubber tourniquet once the injection was complete.

It took a moment before he began to feel the effects; suddenly it was if his entire body were on fire. He fell to the floor, this time writhing in pain, so much so that he let out a blood curdling scream before passing out.

He woke up not knowing how long he'd been out, with no sign of Billy anywhere. He must have gone to start the snowcat.

Illya no longer felt feverish, but he was weak. He grabbed a thermometer and took his temperature; it was normal. Breathing a sigh of relief; he hoped against hope he'd found what was needed to help the others.

He rose from the floor, putting on his blue parka, flipping up the fur lined hood over his head before looking over at the prisoner. He took off before, with his carbine in hand, looking for Ironside.

Outside where they'd left the snowcat...it was no longer there.

"Chyort!" Illya shouted. Why the hell would Billy have left him...unless he thought he was dead? Illya looked at his watch, seeing that three quarters of an hour had passed.

"This cannot be happening!" Illya shouted, looking to the sky.

He heard a noise from around side of the building, guessing it was another of the Soviets and he raised his gun, ready to fire.

A lone figure turned the corner, and Illya aimed at it…

"Billy?" He lowered his gun. "I thought you had left me."

"Illya? I thought you were dead."

"Where is the snowcat?"

"It's on the far side of the compound, that's where their radio room is...I was leaving when I realized I forgot my rifle and came back to get it."

Billy stopped dead in his tracks."Oh my God, Illya...I got out a signal using the radio here. I contacted your organization. I spoke to a man named Waverly and he said the Americans would drop a bomb within the next two hours!"

Illya cursed again in Russian. That did not give him much time to make sure the cure worked, he still had to try it on the remaining Soviet and if it did, he had to stop that bomb."

"Show me where the radio is located," he practically barked at Billy.

He followed the American on foot, but they had no success getting a signal again.

Kicking a chair, sending flying across the room ; Illya stormed back to the lab.

"Now what are you doing?" Billy called after him..

"I am going to proceed with the inoculation of our prisoner."

"Shouldn't we keep trying to…"

"Yes actually you should do that Billy."

"Oh, okay." He seemed to be a bit dazed; the reality of an atomic bomb being dropped on them had left him shaken ...he looked at his watch; it was now less than two hours away.

Kuryakin returned to the lab and there he filled the syringe again with the morphine

Pulling the prisoner's arm around; Illya found a vein, though the subject was rather uncooperative again as he began to squirm at the sight of the needle.

The agent barked in Russian, ordering the creature to stop moving in hopes there was still some humanity left in there.

It worked.

While he had that window of calm, Illya injected the morphine.

The thing that once was his fellow Soviet howled with a most inhuman and bone chilling wail. Illya stood by, watching intently as it passed out.

Checking his pulse; the subject was still alive. Within minutes he began to miraculously change. The cranial and facial swelling decreased and he looked more human again.

The man's eyes opened slowly, looking clear and intelligent. He spoke in a whisper at first.

 _"Kto ty? Pochemu ya privyazan, kak eto_who are you? Why am I tied like this?"_

 _"Menya zovut Il'ya Kuryakin and you may have been a victim of your own experiments. Perhaps you should tell me Comrade what bacteriological experiments have you and your fellow scientists been conducting?"_

The scientist hesitated but began to speak haltingly.

 _"Not experiments, just research. We had been drilling core samples in Lake Vostok when the discovery was made of a heretofore unknown bacteria. There was nothing done with it as far as I know, though Doctor Sporyshev, who is...was head biologist here, sequestered himself while he worked with the new discovery. He would not let anyone else near it. Comrade Podobnyy, in charge of security, was in contact with Kremlin said Moskva was very excited about our discovery. Such as it was went on for months, until Sporyshev became ill, and one by one each of us did as well, changing into those hideous, murderous creatures… was I changed as well?"_

"Da you did change, but I have found a rather unorthodox solution to the problem. So you do not know what Dr. Sporyshev had done, if anything?"

 _"Nyet."_

When Illya was sure the man was himself again, he undid his bindings, and found a parka for him.

 _"What is your name Comrade_?" Illya finally asked.

 _"Dr. Nikita Sergeyevich Chaadayev, assistant biologist for this outpost. Are you with our military Comrade Kuryakin?"_

 _"Formerly GRU, but now I am assigned to the U.N.C.L.E. I am an operative with the organization on loan from Moskva. My partner and I were sent here as contact was lost with our own outpost to the north just before all of this insanity happened."_

 _"Oh yes, that place called Tartarus. A prison da?"_

Illya shook his head. Was secrecy that much of a joke here...though with his Soviet brethren it was no surprise the place was known to them. No doubt Comrade Podobnyy was KGB or GRU.

 _"Where are the others Comrade Kuryakin?"_

 _"Please call me Illya, not comrade, if I may call you Nikita?"_

 _"They call me Kesha, com...Illya."_ The man stood, stretching his legs and stomped his feet, trying to get some circulation going.

 _"I am afraid you are the only one left that I know of…_ " Illya placed his hand on Nikita's shoulder, offering his condolences.

The UNCLE agent did another quick blood test, checking to make sure the bacteria was gone from his and Kesha's systems. As Billy returned, with no luck getting out a signal, Illya took a blood sample from Billy as a precaution. He tested still free of the bacteria.

The three men bundled up and left Bellinghaus Station, heading back in the snowcat to the American base.

Illya took whatever morphine ampules he'd found there with him, but if they couldn't get out a radio signal to U.N.C.L.E. everything would be for naught.


	13. Chapter 13

The snow was falling again, and as the winds picked up it made for near whiteout conditions. Billy was accustomed to it though and navigation by compass was easy enough for him, still the weather made for slow going.

When they finally arrived at the American base they were met by Aggie at the rear of the main quonset hut, though she herself had obviously become sick. Tommy was ill as well and had joined the others, tied up just in case.

"Thank God you lads made it back. I was afraid something had happened to you. We're not doing well. I'm afraid Maggie and Napoleon have started to transform."

"We are not out of luck yet Agatha, as I have good news," Illya said. He put his arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked inside.

"Good, because I haven't been able to make any headway with these little buggers. What did you find?"

"One word,"Illya smiled." Morphine."

"Morphine? But didn't it kill the Frenchman?"

"Perhaps not. It has proven most efficacious using a smaller dosage. Aggie it kills the little buggers, as you say."

He introduced Dr. Chaadayev and gave her a quick rundown on what he'd discovered.

" _Welcome Doctor,"_ Aggie greeted the Soviet scientist in Russian. " _I'm glad that you are alive. Now we must get to work and end this."_

" _Your Russian is very good," he nodded to her._

Together, Illya, Aggie and Kesha prepared injections for everyone, while Billy manned the radio.

Illya opted not to tell the others of the impending threat; what was the point? It it was stopped in time, they'd all be well enough to celebrate.

Once the injections had been prepared, Aggie was the first to receive hers and like Illya, she collapsed, writhing in pain before passing out.

Kuryakin caught her as she fell and cradled her in his arms until she came to, moment later.

She looked up into his blue eyes. "Well hello there ducks...Illya if I were thirty years younger."'

"Hello Agatha; I am flattered. Welcome back." He help her to her feet."How do you feel?"

"Fine."

After taking her temperature and checking her blood sample, she was diagnosed free of the bacteria.

Maggie and Napoleon would be next to receive their shots as they were beginning their changes.

Illya's heart sank for a brief moment when he finally saw his partner's face; the handsome Solo features were swollen and contorted; much longer and he would no longer be recognizable.

"Illya, just kill me now," Napoleon could barely speak. "Do it, please? The pain is unbearable."

"No need my friend. I have found a solution that is less permanent than killing you."

Solo's arms were bound behind his back, not giving the Russian easy access. Illya drew a knife from a sheath hung from his belt and cut the ropes.

Solo's eyes opened wide and he dove at his partner, snarling as his hands wrapped around the Russian's throat. His mouth opened wide, preparing to bite.

Illya rolled, ending up on top of Solo and he jabbed the needle into his partner's throat, directly into the jugular vein. and pushed the morphine into his blood.

For a split second Napoleon's eyes flashed a look of recognition.

"Owwww-ch! Could have waaarned me." He slurred his words.

"You were too busy trying to kill yourself as it will hurt more than that Napoleon." Illya remained on top of him, holding Solo down.

Illya watched as Napoleon gritted his teeth, fighting back the pain as best he could. The American finally let out a scream before passing out. Minutes later he came to, his features returned normal, and his body temperature had dropped to 98.6.

"Whew, you weren't kidding when you said it would hurt. Am I cured?

"We can presume so, but we will have to take blood samples to be sure the bacteria is no longer in your system."

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate needles tovarisch?"

"And what is your _point_ Napoleon, are you going to _needle_ me about it?" Illya chuckled.

"Hey, I'm the one who makes the puns here pal." Napoleon grinned. "Hey did I hurt you?"

Kuryakin pulled down the neck of his black tee shirt, revealing a nasty bruise around his throat.

"I have had worse…"

After ending the invasion of that microscopic pathogen, everyone was given a clean bill of health.

Yet Illya pulled his partner aside to inform him of the impending doom.

Billy had been unable to make radio contact, and now there was only fifteen minutes left before the deadline and they would all meet their end.

"We're not giving up yet," Napoleon said. "This is going to sound strange tovarisch, but I think if one of us could climb up their radio tower, we might be able to get a signal out using a communicator. They still work between us, but not to open an overseas relay… but maybe, just maybe."

"Better still if we could make a connection to a communicator using the antenna, we might be able to boost the signal. I will go," Illya said. "So stop talking and more action. I will change my clothes."

"No, you've done enough and you look like you're ready to fall over from exhaustion tovarisch. I'll go. Senior agent if you recall."

Illya wasn't happy about it at all but Napoleon was right...he was exhausted. If he climbed that tower, he probably wouldn't be able to hold on in the wind gusts."

Tommy rigged up a cable and a clamp, attaching one end to the communicator with some quick soldering. Solo, still accompanied by his partner headed out into the snow.

"Use this," Illya shouted while holding up a rope that had been fashioned into a safety harness. "Wrap it and hook it around the tower, and yourself. It will keep the winds from taking you down."

Napoleon did so with the rope and as he climbed halfway up the tower he lost his footing. If it hadn't been for that safety harness he would have surely fallen.

Once he reached the apex, he attached the jury rigged wire to the metal antenna tower.

"Open Channel-D, overseas relay. Emergency, I repeat emergency! This is Napoleon Solo."

There was a momentary bit of static that he could barely make out over the wind, and just as if a switch had been turned off...the wind suddenly stopped.

"Yes Mr. Solo,"Waverly answered."The Americans are on their way as we speak. I'd like to thank you for your efforts…well, a Mr. Ironside, at Mr. Kuryakin's, behest filled us in on your situation."

"Sir we have to stop the bomb. Illya found a cure! I repeat we have a cure!"

"A cure? The devil you say! One moment."

Several minutes passed before Alexander Waverly spoke again.

"Apparently you and Mr. Kuryakin have a guardian angel watching out for you. It seems the American bomber and its fighter jet escort were delayed because of the weather. They are being recalled as we speak.

I am much relieved that I will not be losing my two top agents, not to mention all the personnel with you and at Tartarus."

"Have you been able to contact them sir?

"Not yet. I have been told the communications array may have been affected by sunspots, though that remains to be seen. When you and Mr. Kuryakin are able, by all means please check on our Ice Station."

The UNCLE agents proceeded at last up to Tartarus and the base camp outside it.

Everyone there was fine there and with no one harmed and they were completely unawares of what had taken place. The prison was secure; there had been no escapes.

The main antenna at the base camp had apparently been toppled and damaged during one of the frequent storms and was just about repaired when Solo and Kuryakin arrived.

Illya helped with the final adjustments and all radio contact was resumed with headquarters. An S.O.S. was sent and Ticonderoga arrived a week later to rescue the survivors.

Two of the British team members were found alive as well and given the opiate treatment, and they were taken to safety on board the Ticonderoga with the Americans.

Teams in hazmat suits arrived from the Soviet Union who took custody of Nikita Chaadayev. Great Britain, France and the United states had their teams arrive as well, checking each of their locations, gathering all paperwork, and data. They viewed the devastation in horror while the bodies of the dead and the bases were burned for safety reasons. At least that's what was told to UNCLE.

Two weeks later Solo and Kuryakin returned to the United States and UNCLE headquarters in New York City after a brief recuperation and medical check up in the Sydney office.

And now they sat tired but well in the office of Alexander Waverly; giving him a detailed verbal report.

Their written reports had already been submitted and forwarded after they'd arrived at headquarters in Australia. Everything that had happened in Antarctica was considered top secret and not to be discussed with anyone. The last thing needed was a world wide panic over an ancient and potentially deadly bacteria that could take everyone back to the stone age.

Waverly, after patiently listening first hand the details of what had taken place, paused to clean his pipe, scraping out the spent tobacco before he filled the bowl with what remained in his humidor.

He reached over to the intercom on his control console, flicking the switch.

"Miss Rogers, will you have someone make a trip to my tobacconist, I'm almost out."

"Yes sir, right away."

The Old Man struck a match, lighting his pipe, taking a few long drags before he spoke again. The tobacco had a rather settling effect on him, and when tense situations arose it helped him keep an even keel, and besides he enjoyed the taste and the aroma. Though Mr. Kuryakin at times did not; Waverly was surprised his Russian hadn't started sneezing from it...yet.

"Under the circumstances gentlemen, your conduct in Antarctica was most commendable. Well done Mr. Kuryakin on your discovery and timely implementation. One would never have expected an opiate like morphine to kill a bacteria that was how old?"

"Thirty-five million years sir, or so that is what it said in the notes of Doctor Sporyshev. I did not have time to look at any of his later data."

"Pity as it would have given us some insight as to what really happened. Unfortunately the Kremlin has not been forthcoming with information sharing on the matter. I'm told that apparently the base at Bellinghaus Station was destroyed by fire, with everything in it, including all the research. They must take me for a fool if they think I believe that. Still, the Kremlin is vehemently denying any culpability. I am convinced based on what Dr. Chaadayev said to you, there must have been questionable experimentation with that bacteria and it's being hidden from us. Unfortunately without a sample our scientists can do nothing in finding any answers. The Americans seem to be dragging their heels with information sharing as well."

"Sir with all due respect, if Kremlin says there was nothing, then I believe them," Illya said.

Napoleon could tell his partner didn't look very happy at Waverly's train of thought.

"How could they have any idea an ancient microbe they discovered could have been capable of doing what it did? I refuse to believe my people attempted to tamper with a 35 million year old bacteria."

"Young man I think you are being a bit naive in your thinking."

"No I am not and I take it as a personal insult that you have insinuated as such." Illya snapped the Old Man. It was very unlike him to do so.

"I understand your wanting to defend your country, however you work for UNCLE and must believe what I tell you. I've never lied to you young man and I am most assuredly speaking the truth to you. Now if you have a problem with that, then I question your loyalty to me and the Command."

"I nearly lost my life on behalf of UNCLE and you question my allegiance? I have a right to love my country, or does UNCLE now _demand_ their agents no longer do so?"

Alexander Waverly was a man not prone to losing his temper.

"Mr. Kuryakin, don't take that belligerent tone with me. You'll change your attitude right now or get out. I will not be spoken to like that." He actually slammed his fist on the conference table top. His pipe went toppling and cracked in two pieces.

"Then I choose to leave," Illya calmly stood, his chin jutting out defiantly.

"Illya!" Napoleon called after him, but he was ignored as Illya stormed out.

"Sir, let me apologize on his behalf…

"You'll do no such thing Mr. Solo. He needs to cool down. I'll have a chat with him once he's had some time to himself. Let him come back on his own...he will."

A few days later Illya finally made an appearance in the conference room. He'd been avoiding his partner and keeping to himself, puttering down in the labs in Research and Development.

"Yes young man?" Waverly looked up from a file in his hands.

"Sir I wish to address the issue of the Soviet misuse of the microbe they discovered in Lake Vostok."

"Yes, about that. It feel I owe you an apology Mr. Kuryakin. You were within your rights to defend your homeland, and I would never ask an agent of mind to abandon his home and people. They will always be yours and rightfully so. You have indeed been an exemplary agent and loyal to the Command. Still I have to say to you that I still suspect duplicity on the part of the Kremlin."

"Yes, sir and that is your right to do so."

"After going through your detailed written report I can not help but focus on the words of Doctor Chaadayev, who indicated the head biologist Doctor Doctor Sporyshev had sequestered himself while working with the new discovery, only to fall ill after several months. That I'm afraid is highly suspicious in and of itself. The idea that a bacteria could cause such an extreme physical mutation is something out of a science fiction story, yet it was not, was it?"

"No sir. I agree and that is why I came today, to apologize for my outburst Logic dictates the bacteria was somehow tampered with, as nothing exists naturally in the world that could do such a thing. Regardless of the fact the bacteria's age...there have been other ancient microbes discovered that could not conceivably mutate without interference."

"I'm glad you're seeing my point young man. Will there be anything else?"

"Sir might I request to use some of my vacation time? This whole episode has me more tense than usual post mission and there is something I wish to attend to."

"Of course, will two weeks be enough young man?"

"Yes sir that should do, and thank you for your understanding." Illya set down a small box on the conference table in front of his boss.

"What's this?" Waverly opened it, finding a new Briar pipe.

"Oh jolly good, thank you Mr. Kuryakin and for your devotion to duty as well."

Illya nodded before heading towards the door, but turned as Waverly spoke to him again.

"By the way, I hear the weather is surprisingly warm right now in Moscow."

"Yes sir, I heard that at well," Illya flashed a wry smile before disappearing from the conference room.

Alexander Waverly never missed a beat...


End file.
